Ghost Effects
by Modern Denial
Summary: "All she can feel is cold. She shivers. There's a whisper hanging onto the air that whips by her, sending chills throughout her body. The voice is calling her name. Taunting. Teasing. Pleading." One-shot. Hinted Natasha/Loki. Sequel to "He Remembers".


**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Avengers or its characters.  
**A/N:** Wow, sorry this took so long. A combo of no internet and writer's block. But at long last, here it is! It's a sequel to _He Remembers_. I hope you enjoy it! Oh and just so you know, the present tense writing is happening in a dream.

* * *

Ghost Effects

She is running away, from what, she does not know. All she knows is that she must keep pumping her arms and moving one foot in front of the other. She has to keep running even though her lungs burn inside her chest and her tongue is dry and her lips are chapping. It's fight or flight, and while ordinarily she would fight, she has no choice but to run. The involuntary gears in her mind work faster than her conscious so she doesn't have to think to keep moving. But she's starting to feel lost and she can't slow down or stop. A voice calls out to her; it calls her name. She looks over her shoulder, looking for the source, but instead sees a flash of black and green descend upon her. Just as she feels her body being overcome, she screams.

* * *

Natasha woke up screaming, her heart pounding so hard, it might break through her chest. She caught her breath as she assessed her surroundings. Home. Alone. No need to panic. She glanced over at her alarm clock, the digital green letters glaring at her through the darkness. She groaned when she saw the time and fell back onto her sheets and pillows. Four o'clock. It was too early to be awake, but too late to try to catch sleep again. She resorted to tossing and turning for an hour before sliding out of bed, ready to start another tired day.

The loss of precious sleep had been causing terrible headaches later on in the day. They would start with a stinging pain somewhere deep inside her skull, and then the blast of a full blown migraine would hit her with such sudden impact, it was like being roundhouse kicked to the temple repeatedly. She usually solved the problem with pills, but she had developed a fear of becoming dependent on chemicals to cure herself.

Today's headache was particularly strong; it seemed to have started as soon as she had woken up from her nightmare. Natasha rubbed her temples and sighed. She was grateful to be working at the SHIELD headquarters as opposed to working on a field mission. A headache like this would have been a huge obstacle and risk-factor on a mission.

"You okay, Nat?" a voice came from behind her.

She turned to face Clint and gave a weak smile. "It's nothing, just a headache."

Clint shot her a suspicious look. "Doesn't look like nothing."

Natasha sighed again, devoid of any energy to prove him wrong.

"Come on," he said as he helped her rise to her feet. "I can take you home. You should get some rest."

"But I can't sleep, Clint. I keep having these...these...nightmares," she protested.

Clint looked into her eyes, his expression full of concern. Her guard was down, allowing him to see the fear and panic in her eyes. He knew something was wrong if she was being so candid with her emotions.

"I'll stay at your place. Make sure nothing bad happens."

"Clint..."

"Natasha, please. Don't force yourself to be here, it's not healthy for you."

They cleared everything with Fury and left for Natasha's apartment. As much as she feared the return of her cloudy nightmares, Natasha wanted nothing more than to sleep. She had just barely crawled under the covers when the heavy spell of sleep was upon her.

* * *

Cold. All she can feel is cold. She shivers. There's a whisper hanging onto the air that whips by her, sending chills throughout her body.

The voice is calling her name. Taunting. Teasing. Pleading.

She can't quite distinguish it. She knows she's heard it before. It was the voice of someone threatening. Someone menacing.

"Natasha..."

Loki.

It all becomes clear; the flashes of his colors, the chilling darkness that surrounds and engulfs her, the voice calling to her.

"I can't believe I've let you sneak up on me," she says, aware of his presence behind her.

"Consider it retribution for your antics aboard the SHIELD vessel." His voice is deep and fluid, full of displaced anger and frustrated longing.

"My antics?" she scoffs as she turns to face him. "I'm not the one who sent his own brother falling thousands of feet through the air in a death-cage. I'm not the one who thrust a spear through Agent Coulson's heart. I'm not the one who almost sent the carrier to its destruction, all just to show off how 'powerful' you are."

Loki shrugs in acknowledgment of his previous crimes. "Keeping a list, are we?"

Natasha's eyes narrow. "What do you want from me, Loki? Why are you haunting me?"

Ordinarily a master at gathering information slyly, Natasha is in no mood to play games and solve riddles. When Loki simply smiles at her, she becomes more forceful.

"Tell me," she commands.

Loki's playful expression transforms into one of pain and embarrassment. He, too, has let his guard down. Natasha is amazed at the sight of the proudest villain she has ever met showing emotion other than hatred and arrogance.

When he finally speaks, the confession comes as a surprise to both of them.

"I'm the one who is haunted by you, Natasha."

She is momentarily stunned, so much so she is fairly certain her jaw has dropped open. She doesn't even bother to try to regain her composure when she speaks again.

"What?"

Loki, on the other hand, does try to regain his tough and menacing attitude. He straightens up taller and his face no longer betrays his emotions. Yet his words are still soft.

"I hate the time I waste by pacing around Asgard, haunted by your face. If you won't leave me be, then I can't say I can return the favor."

"What are you even talking about?" She's growing more and more furious by the second. "Do you seriously think that _I_ have put some sort of spell on you? That I would waste _my_ time trying to mess with your head? I want nothing to do with you!"

The words sting but he tries not to show it.

"Oh, but you do. I could see it in your eyes that day."

She gives him a quizzical look, prompting him to continue. "Don't you remember? I saw it as you all stood above me, silently congratulating yourselves for defeating me," he winces slightly at his admission of defeat, but he has already revealed so much. Pride can be put aside.

When Natasha refuses to respond, her eyes welling with tears, Loki pushes her further. "But that wasn't the only time. You stared me down as you put the handcuffs on me later. You looked at me as though you understood me, and you wanted me to know how you felt."

Natasha turns away, angry at Loki's words. But she knows he is right. Sure, she had been furious at the vengeful god for taking out his pent up frustration on innocent civilians. But at the same time, she felt as though she could relate to his pain. That did not excuse his actions whatsoever, but she acknowledged that he had suffered. She had hoped that maybe if he knew that he was understood, he would stop aching for senseless violence.

"I know what it is like to be lied to," she says softly. Her mind flashes back to her younger days in Russia and she shudders. "I know what it is like to be unnecessarily violent. To be so angry that anyone who gets in your way must be punished."

She turns to face him again. Loki steps closer to her, but she does not feel threatened. He gently reaches for her hand.

"Come with me," he offers. She gives him a perplexed look, and he continues. "We have been wronged. But together we can defeat those who sought out to hurt us."

Natasha pulls away at his suggestion and chokes back her tears. "No, Loki. It isn't worth it."

As the words leave her mouth, she braces for the impending lashing out at her refusal. But instead of being met with violence, she is met with the softness of his lips on hers. It is brief and fleeting, almost as if she imagined it. He has disappeared from her sight, but she can hear his voice in the air.

"One day, you will join me, Natasha."

* * *

The next morning, Natasha awoke feeling well rested and headache-free. She stretched her limbs before gingerly slipping out of bed. It was the first night in a long time that she had slept soundly for more than three hours and woken up after the sun had risen. She was amazed at her luck, but then flashes of her dream came back to her and she panicked. At least she finally knew the cause of her insomnia, but it didn't offer any comfort to know. She rationalized silently with herself. Loki was in Asgard, facing some sort of justice. He had been haunting her dreams, but he couldn't hurt her. They were worlds apart, and it would stay that way. As she shook off her worry and got ready for her day, the last words she had heard before falling back into complete darkness buzzed in her head.

_One day, you will join me, Natasha._


End file.
